The Denver Tech Center area has lots of restaurants, but surprisingly little variety. Sure, there are hidden gems like Sahara on Arapahoe Road, but most of the Tech Center’s eateries trade in steak, salads, seafood or sandwiches. Cool River, Landry’s, Great Northern, Del Friscosthe food, while generally good, isn’t exactly revolutionary.

Ya Ya’s (formerly Yia Yia’s Euro Bistro) has always tried to buck the meat-potato-salad trend, serving a more eclectic, though no less corporate- feeling, menu. The menu is a little more exotic (if Mediterranean qualifies) than most Tech Center bills, with more boundary-pushing dishes like a delicious artichoke and crab barigoule (stewed artichoke and crab meat, with plenty of butter, presented in a jar — you’re to spoon chunks of ‘choke and crab onto slices of bread) and a remarkably restrained, double- truffled dish of arancini (risotto balls with white and black truffle flavors).

And, of course, pizza and pasta and fried calamari.

Ya Ya’s has its first peak at lunchtime, which begins early: The early shift of lunching ladies pulls into the valet line at about 11:15. The small parking lot quickly fills up; even go-getters who arrive on time for an 11:30 a.m. reservation will likely have to find an SUV slip up the hill. But don’t let the parking lot deceive you; the inside of the restaurant is positively sprawling, a cavernous neo-Tuscan-cum-Vegas space where the heavily regulated temperature tops out just north of freezing in summer (bring a wrap).

Ask to sit in the bar area for a lively environment, or follow the hostess to the deeper recesses of the dining room for a more private tête-a-tête.

Once there, call for the soup-and- sandwich special. You’ll be lucky if they’re serving gazpacho (a glistening jewel-bowl of perfectly brunoised vegetables in a light tomato bath that bristles with invigorating spice); you’ll be smart if you pair it with the Bocadillo sandwich, a soft baguette piled with shaved Serrano ham, sliced provolone, and a tomato-caperberry relish. At $13 for the combo, it’s no bargain, but it’s a fair deal, given how satisfying and well-prepared the meal will be.

If, instead, you come for supper, come a bit later than you otherwise might, unless you’re in search of a happy-hour crush, in which case come right after work and wear something short and shiny. Order a plate of the house-made hummus and a glass of something as sparkly as your shoes.

For a more austere supper, arrive after sunset, ask for a table away from the bar, and settle into one of the spacious booths in back, or one of the shady tables on the pleasant patio. Favor the table with an order of the barigoule (see above) or the fresh ricotta (skip the duck confit cigars, which are cloying and bizarre). Then, ask for the roasted organic half chicken, knowing ahead of time that you’ll be taking home leftovers. It will be rich and moist and flavorful, and, surrounded by roasted Yukon Golds and a few cloves of roasted garlic, bountiful. Don’t finish it; take home the breast to toss with pasta or salad later in the week.

Think twice before requesting the risotto; as with nearly all restaurant risotto, it suffers from inconsistent texture: Sometimes too soggy, sometimes underdone, never quite right. Choose the linguine with clams and sausage and fennel instead.

Ya Ya’s, of course, also offers pizza and, in context (Denver circa 2010, a town in which nearly every restaurant offers pizza), it wasn’t bad. But neither was it notable. Crusts were soggier than some, firmer than most, and the toppings were fine but unremarkable. (The best: Italian sausage and olive tapenade. The worst: Overburdened mushroom carbonara with egg, bacon, and truffled goat cheese.)

You’ll find a friendly and well-managed staff at Ya Ya’s, and generous plates of generally well-prepared food. You’ll find prices commensurate with other restaurants in the area (which is to say, not cheap).

You won’t find miracles. The cooks are certainly skilled, which means you may find food with a bit more nuance than most Tech Center restaurants. But Ya Ya’s, ultimately, is a tightly run, multi-state chain. The cooks, as creative as they may be, still have suits to answer to, and suits tend to value consistency and adherence to the mission above inventive cooking.

Consider Ya Ya’s if you aren’t on a tight budget and are sick of steak. It’s about as daring as you’ll find in the neighborhood.